


pleasant dreams

by TrasBen



Series: Skeleton Shipping [15]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cross | Xtale Sans (Undertale), Dream/Cross/Killer/Nightmare - Freeform, Dreamtale Dream (Undertale), Dreamtale Nightmare (Undertale), Fluff, Killer | Something New Sans (Undertale), KillerCreamMare - Freeform, M/M, Narcolepsy, Oop, Other, Polyamory, Scissoring, and ice cream, chronic disorders, does not follow canon dreamtale, hurt/comfort?, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrasBen/pseuds/TrasBen
Summary: Three times Dream falls asleep on one of his boyfriends and one time he is awake.Or, in other words, Dream has narcolepsy and falls asleep. A lot.
Relationships: Dream/Cross/Killer/Nightmare, KillerCreamMare, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Skeleton Shipping [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1403878
Comments: 41
Kudos: 159





	1. ice DREAM cone

If there was one thing Dream hates, it's probably sleep.

His friends wouldn’t be surprised to know this, but for all the wrong reasons: In their eyes, Dream is an active monster. He does his best to be productive and helpful, running all around to talk to everybody he can. For the most part, this is true.

What the inhabitants of the multiverse don’t see is Dream slipping off for a quick nap, or sleeping through movie nights, or his disjointed sleep during the night. Nobody else has seen him, frozen in place while awake, completely unable to do anything but breathe as his brother’s voice whispers into his acoustic meatus and a dark figure in the corner creeps closer.

He knows it’s not Nightmare, not the _real_ Nightmare.

All those nights are the doing of his own mind, creating terrible not-real-things that shake him down to his core and leave him feeling wide-eyed and frightened.

So. Dream doesn’t like to sleep.

He hates it especially when it comes on during the day, while he’s supposed to be doing something or the other.

But he’s almost always _tired_ , it’s impossible to ignore the feeling when it happens.

And all he had wanted _today, of_ all _days_ was to be able to go on one measly date without nodding off! But the feeling had started just about a minute ago, like a heavy blanket being draped over his shoulders.

It’s such a nice day, too. 

Out on the town of some post-pacifist timeline, with bustling businesses lining the street he and Nightmare as well as Cross and Killer are navigating. They’re trying to find a place to sit and eat for a bit, chatting idly.

The signs to the stores are brightly colored and attractive, the streets busy with other monsters and humans shopping or going about their lives.

And… and Dream’s legs are heavy and it feels like he’s breathing harder than normal. But, he remains steadfast in his pace as to keep up with the others. He’s got one hand in Killer’s, the other hanging freely by his side. 

More than once Dream has had to resist the urge to tuck his head into Killer’s shoulder and close his sockets.

Thankfully, neither Cross or Killer or his brother had noticed the small shift when Dream had first stumbled over his words. Now, though, Nightmare’s giving Dream the side-eye that means he knows what’s going on. 

Admittedly it’s… not the first time Dream has tried to ignore the signs. He remembers back before all of this, hiding out in the narrow paths between buildings in the village and squatting down to 'rest his eyes' for a few minutes. He remembers when he and Night were younger, crawling up beside him at the base of the Tree and slipping his head into Nightmare’s lap for a short nap. 

It seems Nightmare still has all of Dream’s tells cataloged, down to the smallest twitches, because when Killer points out a cow themed ice cream store, Cross’ full attention is on describing what an asshole he is. It devolves into petty bickering, which is more affectionate than anything. Neither of them notice as Dream nearly trips over his own lazy feet.

Dream watches fondly for all of two seconds before Nightmare pulls at his gloved hand and tugs him to walk behind the other two.

His other hand slips from Killer’s, who squeezes it before letting him to Nightmare.

“Are you getting tired?” Nightmare asks, like he doesn’t already know. Dream looks away, trying to avoid his brother’s knowing look. Stubborn man wants Dream to admit it. Too bad he knows just how stubborn _Dream_ can be, as well.

“I’m fine!” Dream insists. But his grip on Nightmare’s hand is weak.

Nightmare gives an aggravated sort of sigh, pulling Dream a little closer. “You can barely keep your sockets open.”

Dream blushes, just now realizing that they _had_ been rather lidded…

It’s just getting so hard to keep them open, though… they feel greasy and like they’re made of lead, beckoning him to rest them for just a moment. But it’s a trap. As soon as he does, Dream will be off _dream_ ing. 

And all he wants is to go on _one_ date…

“I’m fine.” Dream repeats stubbornly.

Finally, Nightmare has had enough of all of Dream’s blustering and catches the attention of their lovers by calling out shortly.

“Let’s find a bench.” He tells them.

Killer and Cross stop right away, looking back. Killer has this half sort of grin as he trails his gaze up and down the twins, while Cross’ confusion quickly turns to worry after seeing the way Dream leans into Nightmare.

He’d straighten himself if he could, but it’s impossible at this point. He’s so heavy and Nightmare is so nice…

“What’s wrong?” Cross is quick to ask. His hands come up like they’re trying to find something to do, but there’s no enemies that need slaying or wounds that need tending, rendering him at a slight loss.

The monochrome skeleton hovers a bit, buzzing around where Nightmare and Dream are connected by the hand. Dream tries to wave him off, but a sudden yawn leaves his mouth instead, causing him to blush.

“I’m sorry, I- “

“there’s a park over that way.” Killer mentions, pointing off to the left, never looking away from them. Perhaps Dream would be more offended at Killer’s abrupt interruption if he wasn’t feeling ready to nod off.

Cross sure minds, though, and he looks to have every intention of defending Dream’s honor from their shared boyfriend, but Nightmare nods and he closes his mouth. Dream isn't sure what look Nightmare must be making, but it sure causes some spectacular purple blush.

“Well then,” Nightmare slings one of Dream’s arms across his shoulder without hesitation and starts off in that direction, only stopping for a fraction of a second to signal with his hand that the others should follow, “Are you waiting for an invitation?”

Dream would also probably scold Nightmare for his bluntness, but he’s got that teasing tone that means he’s probably grinning. So he shouldn’t ruin Nightmare’s fun. Not to mention that Nightmare is currently acting as a stand for him...

Killer chuckles, but Cross is still embarrassed over one thing or another. He follows behind the three of them, looking from side to side. Dream has always found it so sweet that he takes it upon himself to be their protector, even despite the fact that none of them really need it.

After that, it’s mostly a blur. Dream only knows that his face gets tucked into Nightmare’s jacket and he can finally close his sockets. At some point, he’s lowered onto a nice warm bench, cuddled into Nightmare as he’s slowly let down. Then, he splays across the thing to settle his skull across his brother’s femurs.

There’s a jacket draped over him, but Dream’s too busy drifting off to tell who it belongs to. He does smell chocolate, though, which prompts a small fantasy of some sort to play in his head as he loses consciousness...

* * *

Nightmare looks down at his lap, feeling slightly frazzled. 

It’s been a long time since he’s borne witness to his brother’s little issue, but the instincts had apparently stayed fresh.

Find a safe place to sit down, let Dream rest. 

Make sure he’s not alone when he wakes up.

It’s not difficult. Well.

Not unless Dream _makes_ it difficult, which he is prone to do.

It’s a tragedy that Nightmare seems to fall in love with stubborn bastards. Or maybe it’s cosmic irony.

From Killer to Cross to his own twin, none of his lovers could ever admit it when they needed anything. Good for them, then, that Nightmare is extremely talented at taking care of _his_ people.

(Good for _him_ that they’re just as well versed at it)

Dream is snuggled underneath Cross’ fluffy jacket, absolutely taken care of and safe. That, at least, sets Nightmare at ease. He hates to think of Dream ever falling asleep all alone and by himself like this.

But he can’t focus on those thoughts at the moment, because...

Killer and Cross are still standing in front of him. It feels strangely regular to have them looking at him like this. They’re waiting for a briefing, or for instructions. They haven’t ever had to deal with one of Dream’s episodes, probably because his brother is so good at hiding that they exist.

Cross had been fretting the entire way here, but now, gaze shifting between Dream’s sleeping form and Nightmare’s steady eye light, he’s silent.

“heheh,” Killer is the first to speak up, “well, he’s out like a _light_.”

Cross’ skull re-colors as he tries to hide the way his grin twitches upwards. Nightmares can taste it in the air, light guilt and amusement as well as worry and exasperation. He doesn’t want to find the joke funny, but for some reason Sanses are especially predisposed to bad humor.

Dream would like the joke.

Nightmare thinks it’s a little funny, himself.

“is he - is he sick?” Cross asks, likely just to hide his own reaction. However, it’s a valid question, so Nightmare deigns to answer him, if only to soothe their curiosities.

“No,” Nightmare replies easily and softly, “He’s just sleeping. At times he requires a break for rest.”

The two sit on that information for a bit quietly. Nightmare wonders if perhaps a bit more information is needed, but doubts Dream would like him to reveal the extent of the nature of his ‘breaks’, so he simply tacks on, “It will only be for a few minutes. You two may continue to the ice cream parlor and return here.”

“so, what?” Killer blurts. “he’ll be up by the time we’re back?” From _him_ , Nightmare can feel overwhelming curiosity mixed with affection and a little bit of amusement. He’s taken Nightmare’s words to heart and isn’t worried.

It satisfies a tiny part of Nightmare, who likes to be trusted. Such an odd, nifty, thing. But so intoxicating, as well.

“That depends on how long you take.” It’s a simple answer. Dream doesn’t usually take long naps, although they can be frequent.

It’s also entirely possible that Dream will wake up only to feel tired after only another hour. But he doesn’t mention this, ‘else he might cause more worry or prompt more questions.

Killer’s confident questioning has Cross looking ready to throw a few more of his own, so Nightmare quirks his brow.

“I’m sure Dream will be happy to soothe your curiosity when he is awake,” Not likely, “And I am also sure that he would appreciate a treat as well.” It’s not a subtle hint, but it gets the idea through to Cross’ (at times) thick skull and lets Killer know he is being serious.

They take another moment to inspect the twins, but Killer must find something that truly satisfies him, so he links arms with Cross. “alright, crossy-kins, moo-moo ice cream palace is waiting.”

Cross looks positively miserable as he asks, “what kind of ice cream do you want?”

Nightmare has to hide a grin at his poor boyfriend’s expense. The guard is his favorite to rile up, but he’s just as entertaining when he’s moping. Cross’ strange fear of cows is delicious on its own, but the added level of hilarity Nightmare gets from being able to feel his indignation is a real treat.

“Dream prefers triple chunk chocolate fudge ice cream, I believe.” Nightmare informs them, gently stroking over his sleeping brother’s skull.

“and you?” Cross prods. 

Nightmare would deny the need for getting any for himself, but Cross has that look that he gets when he’s in the mood for being difficult. And… Nightmare knows when to retreat and when to fight. Now is not a time for fighting. Far from it, in fact. So he chooses to indulge himself and the others a little.

“Vanilla is fine.”

“cone or cup?” This time, the words are more of a demand. Killer huffs a small laugh at his tone, but Nightmare spares a glance down at Dream’s sleeping face and replies simply.

“Cups would be optimal.”

Then, the two are off on their newest mission issued by Nightmare.

It leaves the park surprisingly silent, the only other people around being some elderly couples or the occasional student. It’s a lovely park, really. Nightmare doesn't have much time to admire greenery, although he has a nice view of the forest outside his castle from his office…

The sound of birds and the gentle shade from the swaying branches above bring a sort of distant nostalgia over him. It’s a warm day, with fluffy clouds dotting the sky. The weight of Dream’s head in Nightmare’s lap is soul-achingly familiar. Nightmare almost expects to see a book in his hands when he looks down, but of course, there isn’t.

This isn’t back then.

And yet, some things never change.

Nightmare trails his phalanges gently over Dream’s resting features. He doesn’t realize a small smile has slipped over his face when Dream’s nasal ridge wrinkles slightly at his attentions.

Strange how the mask of sleep can cover up years apart. Dream is so similar to how they were as children, although there’s obvious growth that has occurred. 

They’ve both matured in their years as enemies. 

Nightmare wishes he could have been there to see all of Dream’s soft and round edges sharpen. He wishes he could have watched his overeager nature shift into true kindness, wishes he could have counted how many tears it took.

It had seemed as if the tears were endless when they were children. Dream, whining about how tired he always seemed to be, sobbing himself to exhaustion all over again. Nightmare’s quiet tears in the dead of night or whenever else he could get away with them.

And Nightmare…

His own anger now burns hotter rather than brighter. He doesn’t let it consume his every thought, although he’ll never forget the village. His compassion has grown as he’s been shown the same kindness by his entourage, his understanding expanding along with it. 

Moving past what had happened when they were children hadn’t been easy. Some part of it will likely always stick with Nightmare, but it’s possible to move on without forgiving. He’s gotten his revenge. 

And he’s got everything else he’d ever wanted, too. _His_ people, _his_ brother, a castle, enough to provide for all of them.

When Nightmare sees Cross and Killer again in the distance, they’ve got their hands full with frozen treats. Coincidentally, Dream begins to shift just as they’re close enough to hear.

The golden skeleton groans and shifts, breathing deeply. 

Killer hands Nightmare his ice cream over the other’s head, and he takes it with a short note of gratitude. 

Dream pulls himself up not too long after with a yawn and much blinking.

“What happened?” He asks slowly, looking around the park and at the ice cream Cross is offering him. Dream takes it, cautiously, peering at the contents.

“You fell asleep.” Nightmare replies before the others can start, “We brought you here so you could rest.”

Dream’s baffled expression drops to melancholy. “I… I’m so sorry.” He tells Cross and Killer. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I was having fun, really!”

Both the skeletons receiving an apology seem surprised to hear it. Cross quickly takes the newly free space next to where Dream is sitting and puts an arm around his waist. Killer leans against where Nightmare is sitting at the edge of the bench and watches. Nightmare can taste worry from his direction, but a great majority of it is coming from Cross.

“i don’t mind!” Cross tells him quickly. He takes a glance up at Killer and reiterates, “ _we_ don’t mind.”

“‘s no _skin_ off my _nose_.” Killer chimes in agreement, “you fell asleep, so what? half of the sanses out there can’t keep their eyes open through a single shift at their sentry stations.”

Dream looks down at his melting ice cream. Nightmare notes that his is likely in a similar condition. “I still ruined the date.” He sighs.

One of Nightmare’s tentacles reflexively wraps around Dream’s wrist, which brings his brighter half’s attention to him at last. “Say nothing of ruin.” Nightmare demands softly, “Nothing has been ruined today.”

Dream blushes slightly, lower lip wobbling just a little.

The moment is somewhat overridden by Killer snickering, “well, _something_ got ruined today.”

When two sets of eye lights and one large teal light swivel over to where he’s leaning Killer points over to Cross and continues, “he dropped some of the ice cream.”

Cross sputters at the accusation, “so?! you’d already eaten half of yours!”

“what a reward! for offering to hold boss’ and dream’s so you could try some of your own, i got _my ice cream_.” Killer teases some more, “all over the floor.”

“... i was startled!” Cross complains, looking away.

Killer’s grin is ten times as wide as before as he catches the twin’s attention and stage whispers, “there was a mascot.”

Oh. Nightmare knows exactly where this is going.

Cross hears despite the pathetic attempt at volume control. “why does an ice cream parlor need a mascot?” He grumbles.

Dream blinks as realization dawns on him, too, “Oh, dear, was it the cow themed one?”

“cross cried.” Killer offers by way of confirmation.

“did not!!” The guard insists.

His fluster only grows worse when Dream and Nightmare burst into nearly identical laughter, the characteristic ‘mwehs’ escaping off of them in choked bits. They both know he’s telling the truth, they can feel it as instinctually as they could feel the wind on their bones. But some teasing is always funny, especially considering it offers diversion from the earlier topic of their conversation.

Nightmare can even feel that Cross’ heart isn’t all in his protests, glad to have lightened the mood.

Killer is extremely proud of himself, but Dream tries to catch himself and rub Cross’ back consolingly. “It’s alright!” He tells Cross between giggles, “I’m sure you were very brave!”

“nobody appreciates me.” Cross laments dramatically.

“Nooo,” Dream faux cries, “Here, have some of my ice cream.” He offers a spoon full of half-liquefied chocolate ice cream, but Cross leans away.

“... that’s _yours_ …” He says solemnly.

Killer spares one last chuckle before shifting over to stand in front of Dream and lean down. “i’ll have some, little light.”

Dream brightens and proceeds to spoon-feed Killer, who is absolutely loving the attention.

Nightmare can tell Cross is regretting his decision to refuse Dream as he watches the other two canoodle, so Nightmare spoons up some of his own cream-slush and uses a tentacle to carry it over and behind Dream, where he can poke at Cross’ cheekbone with the spoon.

Cross blinks and looks over to where Nightmare is holding it out. 

Nightmare’s face is a little hot as Cross gratefully accepts the spoonful, but he diligently scoops up another bite for him.

… 

When all of the ice cream is gone, Dream sighs contentedly. 

“This was a nice date.”

Nightmare can’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some notes:
> 
> *dream is portrayed has having narcolepsy, which is actually quite different than the common portrayal of it. what he's just experienced is a "sleep attack"  
> *nightmare doesn't have narcolepsy  
> *in their timeline, not much was known about conditions like anxiety, narcolepsy, ptsd, stuff like that. so neither dream or nightmare really knows that dream's condition has a name, since they haven't looked into it  
> *also, at the beginning, sleep paralysis/hallucinations are briefly referenced. for clarity, it is NOT nightmare causing this. hallucinations can be anything, but i often hear a family member/friend's voice when im having hallucinations during sleep paralysis  
> *the mascot tried to greet cross on their way out and he dropped the ice cream  
> *killer laughed his ass off  
> ____  
> 


	2. chocolate kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cross convinces dream to watch some tv with him

There’s a reason Dream doesn’t watch movies. Or, anything, really.

He doesn’t even really _read_ even though he’s sure there’s plenty of perfectly good things out there. Dream has always been partial to fantasy. It’s always too easy to get lost in worlds that he hasn’t seen with his own two sockets, in words written by somebody who was filled so _much_ that they had to put it down on paper.

Sometimes, it feels like _everything_ is too much. But Dream kind of likes that too. Except, when he doesn’t.

He knows that his lovers are much the opposite; Nightmare could spend days lost in a book, while Cross and Killer are always trying to get the twins to join in on a movie night or two. Nightmare will act like it’s below him, but he always finds himself squarely sat between their two boyfriends.

Dream… Dream offers to get them snacks or gives some explanation to why he’s really, suddenly, _far too_ busy for a movie. On the rare occasions he caves, he makes a big show of playing up how tired he is and laying his head on someone’s shoulder before waiting for the inevitable.

The thing is, sitting down for more than half an hour is a surefire way for Dream to fall right into sleep, so easily that he won’t even realize he’s done it.

It’s embarrassing.

Whenever Blue used to wrangle him into a sleepover, Dream would always pass out first. When he’d wake up, Blue would tease him gently before rubbing the top of his skull like he was a babybones who couldn’t help it.

Dream doesn’t think he’d mind the same reaction from, say, Cross or Killer, but to him, it’s better to make sure it doesn’t happen at all.

… That doesn’t make it any easier to have to look Cross in the eye sockets and explain why he can’t watch _Undernovela_ with him.

According to Cross, Sci had figured out a way to store the recordings Error had saved into disk form. And now… he wants Dream to watch them with him.

“Oh, Cross…” Dream starts hesitantly, desperately trying not to look too guilty as Cross stares him down. “I would love to, it’s just…”

Cross stands in front of him, back straight, waiting. He’s got the case in his hands. Eye lights focused and intense, bottom lip _so close_ to being popped out for extra effect. He’s blatant in his tactics, but Dream is weak either way.

“if you needed help with something - “ Cross starts.

Dream tries to hide the way a grimace slides over his face. “No, it’s fine, really. What about Killer?”

Cross’ face gets even more pathetic, if that’s even possible. Dream doesn’t even mean it in a disapproving way. In the true definition of _pathetic_ , Cross’ expression is so emotionally moving that it’s starting to sway him.

“he’s got this - this thing, with his buddy.” Cross explains quickly, “and i already asked night, he’s busy with paperwork.”

“Oh…” Dream feels his soul flutter unhappily. Of course, it would stand to reason that Dream would be Cross’ last choice when Dream has denied him so many times in the past. It just… hits differently, to hear it.

Maybe Cross realizes this, because he’s quick to backtrack, stuttering over his words as he tries to explain himself. “i mean,” he starts.

But the part of Dream’s mind that he really wishes didn’t have so much power over him has already taken the narrative and run with it. He bites his bony bottom lip.

“Okay.” He says, cutting off Cross in the middle of his rambling. “I’ll watch it. Undernovela, right?”

… 

Cross just blinks at Dream, before the shock slowly slides into cautious excitement. “yeah?” he asks, slightly disbelieving.

Dream nods, giving back his own half-grin. “Yes, it sounds… fun.”

“It is, totally!” Cross replies, taking Dream by the hand. He lets himself be led around the halls until they reach Cross’ room. Cross rarely uses it anymore, on account of them all more or less agreeing to congregate in Nightmare’s overly large bed on most nights.

He listens to Cross’ excited chatter with a fond grin. He lets Cross set his bed up with pillows and hidden snacks from dresser drawers, and he settles in next to his tallest lover as the show starts up on his little screen. It’s a little grainy, but Dream was around before televisions were even a thought in the multiverse, so he doesn’t mind.

And…. Dream… he likes it.

The show is a bit cheesy, sure. But it’s like reading books without actually _reading_ , and the pictures are right there for his head without him having to close his sockets and picture them, running the risk of falling in too deep and drifting off.

The character’s voices are soothing and passionate all at once, and watching _Cross_ watch is just as enthralling as the plot itself.

Dream’s never paid much mind to television, not after the first dozen or so times he’d fallen asleep while trying to genuinely get into something. He distinctly remembers trying to make it through _The Phantom of the Opera_ on eight separate occasions before giving up completely.

He and Cross go back and forth between exchanging little chocolate kisses. Carefully unwrapping them from their foil, gingerly slipping them up to each other's teeth for the other to take.

Dream sighs as Cross offers him another small treat, nuzzling his hand before it leaves. He hears the small, strangled noise Cross makes in response and feels a content smile slip into place on his face.

“thanks for, uh, doing this with me.” Cross sort of mumbles to Dream at a lull in the plot. “i know you aren’t really into this sort of thing.”

Dream feels his breath catch in his rib cage. He doesn’t know whether to be endeared Cross is taking a moment to be so sincere, or devastated his previous actions have caused a moment like this to occur in the first place. Dream settles for some place in the middle where he doesn’t have to think about it too hard, and leans his head into Cross’ sturdy chest.

“I’d do anything for you.” He tells Cross. He means it.

“anything?” Cross begins mischievously. Dream can practically hear the grin curling over his face.

Dream gets the exact same idea in his head at the exact same time and is quick to cut his tallest lover off.

“Anything does _not_ include fantasy LARPing with you and Epic.” Dream says resolutely.

Cross snickers and drapes one of his arms over Dream’s shoulder to pull him in closer. “aw, shoot, babe.” He bemoans playfully. “but i have an elf costume that’d be just _perfect_ for you.”

Dream makes a noise of confusion. “I thought elves were just humans with pointy ears?”

“and magic!” Cross corrects. “you’d make a great elf.”

“Apple of my eye, I don’t even _have_ ears.” Dream sighs.

A humming noise emits from Cross’ rib cage as he stalls. “well, how can i be the apple of your eye if you don’t _have_ an eye, either?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

Cross’ grin is cheeky. “you love me.”

Dream makes a big, dramatic sigh, louder than his other ones. “I do.” He says, “I love you a lot. And I’d do anything for you - “

“- except live action fantasy role play with me and epic.” Cross finishes for him.

“Yes, except that.”

The sound of Asgoro shouting through a passionate speech draws both of their attention back to the small screen of Cross’ personal Tv. “oh, shoot.” He groans, “lemme scroll back.”

Cross impatiently holds down a button on his remote until they’re about at the point where they got distracted. Dream snuggles into Cross’ side, further under the arm that’s still wrapped around him. He watches as Sin pulls out a gun from under his jacket and presents it to an audience.

While his boyfriend is completely enthralled, Dream’s attention keeps getting pulled away by the warmth he’s surrounded in. The softness of the blankets Cross had arranged, the fluffy give of the pillows they’re rested on. It gives him the overwhelming urge to just… close his sockets for a bit. 

And… Cross is occupied, so he surely won’t mind if Dream indulges a little bit. Just for a minute, no longer. Then Dream will feel refreshed.

Dream slips his sockets shut and leans heavily into Cross. He feels a long breath escape him.

He’s so comfortable.

* * *

Cross is so focused on reading subtitles that he doesn’t realize for a minute that Dream isn’t looking at the screen. He pauses the show to check on him, seeing that Dream’s sockets are shut.

Cautiously, he nudges Dream’s shoulder.

“hey. babe.” He urges quietly. “you’re missing it.”

Dream shifts and groans, the space between his sockets furrowing as he slowly opens them. It seems to take him a minute to process. For a good while, he just stares at Cross’ face like he doesn’t recognize him.

“What?” He slurs.

“the show.” Cross repeats, “you’re going to miss the good part.”

Another blink.

Dream looks over to the Tv and makes an indecipherable noise. “I’m… I’m watching.” He assures Cross slowly. “Just resting my eyes…”

Cross is doubtful, but when Dream settles back against him, he starts the show back up anyways. “okay…”

It’s only another minute before Cross feels Dream’s skull drop against his shoulder. Sure enough, when he looks down, Dream’s eye sockets are shut and his face is slack. The angle his head’s at has caused his mouth to fall open.

The sight pulls a grin over Cross' face, but he's at somewhat of a loss.

Does he try and wake Dream up again? It seems cruel, especially considering how Dream had reacted the first time.

Eventually, and with the utmost of care, Cross scoots the two of them back until they’re resting on the pillows against his headboard. He lowers them down so they’re side-by-side and adjusts so Dream is laying half on top of him, half on the bed.

His little lover hadn’t stirred at all during the process, confirming that he is, in fact, out cold.

So. Cross restarts the show. 

Hopefully Dream won’t be upset at Cross for watching without him…

* * *

When Dream comes-to, it’s to him laying down with somebody very warm. He hums and shifts, stretching his legs out and looking up.

A dopey grin comes over his face when Dream sees Cross staring right back at him. Caught off guard, with a chocolate kiss halfway to his teeth.

Cross smiles back and offers the uneaten treat to Dream. “you’re awake.” 

“I am...” Dream replies softly. He takes the chocolate between his teeth before eating it and hums, brushing his nasal bone just under Cross’ chin. Cross half-giggles and nuzzles back.

Then, all at once, Dream remembers. 

… 

He gasps and sits up, dislodging a veritable army of small foil wrappings from around the two of them. Cross seems surprised, sitting up along with Dream and swiping away all the trash.

“I’m sorry!” Dream exclaims, looking at the Tv. “It was an accident, I tried to stay awake, I did!”

Cross wraps his arms around Dream and holds him to his chest tightly. “woah woah, it isn’t a big deal.” He assures him, “you only missed an episode. we can go back if you want.” 

Dream tucks his face into Cross’ shoulder. He takes a few breaths and tries to convince his beating soul to calm down. Nothing’s wrong, nobody’s hurt.

“... No.” He says eventually. “Just tell me what happened. We’ll never get through the show otherwise.”

“are you sure?” Bless Dream’s boyfriends, but mostly Cross at the moment. He’s especially attentive, to all of their needs, but he treats Dream especially like something precious and delicate. Sometimes it’s slightly annoying. At the moment, though, he greatly appreciates it.

“I don’t mind.” Dream tells him. “I want you to have fun.”

“i always have fun when i’m with you.” Cross’ voice is serious. “i, uh, i want you to have fun, too.”

Dream feels like he might tear up if his lover is any more sincere, so he attempts to laugh the whole thing off with a small self-deprecating joke. “I can’t be very good company when I’m drooling all over your shirt.” 

“drool notwithstanding, you’re way cooler than you think.” Cross retorts, pinching at one of Dream’s cheekbones. “you’re, uh, super cute when you sleep.” There’s a slight haze of purple over Cross’ own cheekbones as he admits it.

Dream squeaks and giggles, pushing his face further into Cross to protect it from tricky little fingers. “Okay, okay! Just tell me what happened.” He concedes.

Without any planning or thought, the two settle back down to lay against each other. Cross pauses the show to describe everything Dream missed. It’s very nice, to listen to Cross talk about all the parts that excited him. 

Dream can tell who his favorite characters are just based on how he imitates their voices or mannerisms as he acts out some scenes.

By the time he’s caught up, both Dream and Cross are practically laughing themselves into stitches. 

It takes a minute to calm down, but even when they do, Cross doesn’t unpause the show.

“Cross?” Dream asks after him, to make sure nothing’s wrong. He’s sure he’d know if something were, due to his ability to sense emotions. There’s no _distress_ coming from Cross, but there _is_ some weight, some awkwardness.

“you don’t - “ Cross cuts himself off before starting again, “you don’t have to answer. i just wanna know. whenever you, you fall asleep - you always apologize. i don’t mind, you know?” Cross looks away, “i’m sorry if i made you think i would… be upset?”

Dream must stare for a good minute before he can scrounge up the ability to reply.

“I love you so much.” He says, firstly. “Cross, you are… you’re very good.” Dream tells him. His voice feels thick in the throat he doesn’t have. “It’s not you at all. It’s me, not you.”

Cross blushes at Dream’s words, stroking down his back affectionately. “can i…. know why?”

Dream breaks eye contact with Cross and sets his skull back down on his chest. He sighs, probably for the tenth time that day. “I used to get in trouble a lot for falling asleep.” He starts. “Normal kids don’t do that, you know. They don’t just… fall asleep, whenever. Wherever.”

The stroking continues, so Dream does as well.

“I always went away, when I thought I was going to fall asleep, so I didn’t get in trouble. But one day I was helping the owner of the local pub with something, and she asked me to hold the - the plates.” It gets a bit harder to go on, but Dream perseveres, “I started to get tired after a minute, so I leaned against the wall. I didn’t think I would fall asleep.” He whispers.

“... But I did.” Dream remembers waking up to the sound of crashing and shattering, realizing he’d failed in his task. “And I dropped the plates and they all broke on the floor. The owner - she was, she was quite upset with me. I was... dumb.” Furious, more like. She’d slapped Dream with the back of her hand before telling him to move aside so she could clean up.

Dream keeps that part to himself, though. He’d worked for her for a month afterwards, cleaning tables and sweeping the floor, to work of the debt.

“that’s dumb.” Cross says after a minute. Dream feels his soul crash before Cross follows up with, “you were just a kid. i broke a ton of stuff when i was a kid, xgaster - he. well. ah... that's something like he would do. say. and he's wrong. obviously.”

Dream wants to say _but_. Wants to remind Cross that maybe it’s because _he_ wasn’t born to do anything particularly grand, and that Dream was really actually quite a bit older, and it was just his body that was young. He wants to remind Cross of all these things, secretly hoping he’ll be condemned.

But Cross wouldn’t do that. Because none of Dream's usual defenses would work - he _knows_ about xGaster. Cross had confided in him about the clinical way his father figure had treated him. He knows an unfortunate amount about the way his universe had been moulded over and over again specifically for whatever purpose the man had wished to fit it into.

He’s forgiving (to some) and he’s kind. He’s the boyfriend that hand feeds Dream chocolate kisses and acts out parts of a show he missed. 

“It was still my fault.” Dream says instead. “I fell asleep when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“i feel like we’ve had this talk.” Cross reminds Dream, “it doesn’t bother me if you need to take a nap. and that lady is probably long gone, anyways. you’re not hurting anybody.”

The way Cross says it sounds so matter of fact. So obvious. 

And it _is._

Dream had made it up to her. He’s figured out ways to somewhat manage his sleepiness. Falling asleep while watching a show isn’t a capital crime. 

Sometimes, it just feels like Dream is wasting something or doing something wrong by falling asleep so often. Sometimes he just hates that it’s out of his control.

But Cross doesn’t hate that about him. And if Cross can accept it, then Dream can too, for now. He’s been forgiven.

“Thank you.” Dream says. He knows it’s not enough. “... Perhaps I’ll give the elf costume a try.”

“wait - really??”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cream!!! lovely cream!!! oh i just adore them.....
> 
> ___
> 
> * cross definitely larps with epic you can't change my mind  
> * cross has attempted to get both nightmare AND killer to wear the elf costume  
> * he just wants a big tiddy elf bf  
> * killer agreed but talked in horrible old-timey speech and was banned from larp club  
> * nightmare refuses to be perceived  
> * surprise angst idk where that came from lol


	3. that's some killer pussy 😏

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "wow"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly porn uhh!!!!!!!!!!!! rating has been changed to explicit, my bad for not doing that earlier!!!! 18+ only,, thank you very much

It’s no secret what Dream’s after when he slips his arms over Killer’s shoulders from behind in the hallway. The smell of lemons and laundry detergent is the first hint of who his assaulter is, the next being the dull contact-high he gets from close proximity.

“hey, little light…” He greets.

Can’t help but chuckle when the only response he gets is a little nuzzle and a sigh.

_So it’s like that._

Killer lets Dream drag him to his room with only a little teasing. It’s hard to keep up acting like he’s not bothered when Dream starts peppering kisses over his face, each one an explosion of pleasure in its own right.

Dream is a fucking cheater like that, but Killer knows he can’t help it.

And by that time he’s feeling pretty damned relaxed. Enough that he doesn’t even do more than nip at Dream’s fingers when he’s pushed down into the bed. 

It’s even fun to just watch Dream do his thing, pull clothes off of Killer like he’ll die if he doesn’t get to see every bone in his body. If he doesn’t get to touch every _part_ of Killer. Killer lets his own hands wander during all of this, pulling off Dream’s flowy cape and letting it fall down on the bed next to them. 

Dream’s body suit is a little bit more tricky to get off of him, especially while the eager skeleton is still pecking his face all over with chaste kisses. Killer snickers between them as he works Dream’s suit down his hips. Fortunately, he gets the hint and kicks the last article of clothing off, finally leaving them both bare.

The high from Dream’s particular power makes Killer feel like he can’t breathe. _(Good thing he’s into that)_

There’s a golden glow from Dream’s pretty magic, which has taken the familiar shape of a cunt Killer has spent many an hour worshipping. Killer’s grin sharpens. Needly little light...

For a moment, Dream just tucks his skull into Killer’s shoulder again and breathes in deeply. Feels a little like he’s mocking him. Killer chuckles as he loops his arms around Dream’s neck and knocks their skulls together a little, “lose your nerve or something?”

“Hardly.” Dream grins into Killer’s shoulder. A moment later, he pops up to grab something off of the dresser. Killer cranes his neck to see what it is, But Dream is just a little too quick for him to make whatever it is out.

Turns out he didn’t need to wonder; Killer recognizes the thick fluid that’s poured over his pelvis pretty instantly. 

He jolts at the coldness of the lube, but it’s soothed by Dream’s hands quickly working over the sensitive little notch of his pubic symphysis. Dream has always had warm hands. Clever hands. 

He uses them to stir Killer’s magic up and stroke through it, down from his tail bone up to his pubic symphysis, until Killer has a matching pussy ready to go. The quickness of it all has Killer’s head spinning with more than just Dream’s aura.

“hahh…’

The hot-cold treatment does something to his senses. Not sure exactly _what_ , but he’s sensitive and squirming after about half a minute of Dream’s enthusiastic treatment. When Killer tilts his pelvis up for a little bit more, Dream runs a single finger through his folds, upwards so he can briefly rub at Killer’s clit.

“hey,” he grunts when Dream pulls his hand away just as quickly.

“Shhh…” Dream shushes him, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against his teeth right after. It almost distracts Killer from the way he squirts about another third of the bottle all over Killer’s cunt. “I’m getting you ready…”

_Ready for what?_ Killer wonders. Maybe Dream’s planning on getting some toys out, considering there’s no way he’d need this much preparation for Dream’s fingers. _Unless_ Dream is just planning on going back and forth between the chill of the lube and the heat of his hands.

Killer would’ve certainly gotten off on weirder things.

With the excess lube that slides off of Killer, Dream reaches down to slather it over his own magic for just a bit. It’s still just long enough that Killer’s a bit jealous of the self attentions. His own hands feel a little antsy, tired of waiting.

Finally, Dream moves his nimble fingers back down to Killer’s cunt, briefly teasing the ring of muscle before leaving to massage his lips and circle his clit. His false muscles jump with the bare stimulation.

Still, all the slick has eliminated most of the friction, which prompts Killer to move his hips along with the movements to get _more_. The fingers feel good but they’re not _enough_.

By now Killer’s hands have been steadily moving down from Dream’s shoulders to his ribs, down to his hips. While Dream is busy _preparing_ Killer, he scritches at Dream’s tail bone with one hand and lightly traces Dream’s pussy with the other.

See how _he_ likes teasing.

_(Quite a lot, actually)_

The noises Dream makes will probably never get old. They’re shameless, desperate, quiet and yet still so _telling_.  
  


Dream’s skull might as well be a lightbulb for the glow. It’s fairly well known that Dream isn’t known for his patience, but what little he has starts to slip after a minute of mutual touching. His fingers get rougher, drawing choked off gasps from Killer. Both their hips are rutting into each other’s hands, desperate for something more.

Dream can be mean, but he usually isn’t one to leave his partner _high and dry_. Killer’s a little frustrated with the extended foreplay.

He curses when Dream pulls his hand away, throwing his skull back. Meanly, Killer decides to pinch Dream’s tailbone.

Dream squeaks at the treatment, releasing a short giggling right after.

“Alright,” He says warmly, “you’ve waited long enough. I’ll get on with it.”

“gee thanks.” Killer replies. He pulls his hand away from Dream’s pussy to rest it back on his shoulder. Keeps the other on his tailbone in case further chastisement is needed. 

Dream shifts so as to straddle one of Killer’s femurs. Then, he grabs up the leg not straddled and holds it up a little bit higher than his hip.

Killer blinks as _his_ hips are hoisted up above his head level. 

Dream grins down excitedly. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything.” He assures Killer breathlessly.

A pillow somehow gets shifted under Killer’s spine to get him nice and comfortable before Dream shifts closer, and -

_Warm!_

Dream hums as both his and Killer’s magic come into contact, slick and warm and _sensitive._ That contact of flesh on flesh is just what Killer had been missing earlier. He rolls his hips up a little and shudders. _Nice._

Killer hooks his heel around Dream’s illia and huffs with a grin just as wide. “glad you’re _on top_ of this.”

Dream kisses him quiet. Killer’s happy to oblige.

* * *

Killer nudges Dream’s face against his own. Nowhere near hard enough to sting, but enough to move his face into the light.

After they’d finished _(several times over)_ , Dream had all but collapsed to Killer’s side with a sigh. A few incoherent mumbles later and Dream pulls himself up to his elbows so he can look over Killer again. 

The way his round, golden eye lights tremble and wobble in his sockets softens something in him. Dream reaches out to brush his hand along the left side of Killer’s face, and Killer _knows_ that his own eye light is there. Even if it’s feint. 

“... Wow.” Dream exhales it more than he says it, as if he’s filled with so much astonishment and appreciation that he just can’t keep it contained.

Killer’s perpetual grin mellows out as he holds a hand over Dream’s. “wow yourself, dreamy. astounding performance. _top_ quality, you might say. you really didn’t _pussy_ foot around.”

Dream crinkles his nasal ridge like Nightmare does, but laughs instead of scoffs and pinches Killer’s cheekbone. “And I’m not done yet. Give me a second, love.”

“hmmm…” Killer stretches his legs out to wiggle his toes. Doesn’t really know if he’s got another round in him, really. Astounding. Dream really has a way with his hands. And his mouth. And, well - it’s safe to assume Dream is ready to weaponize any part of himself at any time in order to reduce Killer to mush. Unfair what having three hot, talented boyfriends does to a skeleton. Killer used to be able to go for hours.

Instead of pressing closer, though, Dream rolls over until his feet drop out underneath him as he stands up. Killer shifts so he can watch the way Dream wobble-walks to the door that connects his bedroom to the bathroom.

_(Dream probably doesn’t know Killer caught the way his sockets started to droop, or how he leaned against the door frame for a second before continuing into the bathroom. There’s still a mixture of slick from lube and arousal stuck to the inside of his femurs.)_

The sound of running water permeates the air and it’s not a minute later that Dream is shuffling back out. This time, with a bowl and rag in hand.

“Would you - Would you please sit on the edge of the bed?” Dream asks through a yawn. He kneels at the end of the bed on the floor at just the right distant to rest his skull on the soft comforter.

Once again, Killer obliges. He sits on the edge of the bed, propping himself up on his hands behind him, leaving himself open with his legs spread. He’s a little curious.

This isn’t the first time Dream’s insisted upon taking care of Killer after, and he’s sure it’s far from the last, but his lover looks… spent. More so than usual after sex.

It isn’t hard to see how sleepy Dream is when he’s right between Killer’s legs. Focused on his task as he is, the slow, repetitive movements of Dream lightly dragging the cloth along his bones isn’t as purposeful as usual.

Like Dream, Killer’s cunt had dissipated at least a few minutes ago. It leaves his pelvis bare for Dream to stroke over gently. There’s no lustful intent in the move, only unbridled care. Strangely it flusters Killer more than any of the admittedly odd things Dream has requested of him in the past.

He’s too caught up to even say anything about how nice it is to have Dream on his knees or anything of the like. It feels like the moment would be broken by words, so he lets their soft breathing dominate the space instead.

Killer almost doesn’t notice right away when the gentle stroking becomes little more than weak rubbing until Dream’s skull thunks against Killer’s inner femur and he looks down to see his lover completely passed out, cloth still pressed against Killer’s pelvis. 

He… can’t help chuckling. Heh. Worked himself down to the _bone._ Can’t say it’s unlike him.

The gentle rattling of his bones must wake Dream up, because the golden skeleton is soon blinking slowly and looking around. “Hmm…?”

“go back to sleep, dreamy.” Killer tells him quietly. There’s no small amount of amusement in his words.

Dream doesn’t seem to be able to resist the suggestion, because he slurs out something Killer doesn’t quite catch and nuzzles into his femur again before dropping back off. It’s a bit of an odd maneuver to drag Dream up onto the bed with him, but Killer manages. He pulls Dream up until he’s resting against the pillows.

He’s still got a mess all over his legs - if Killer doesn’t work soon it’ll get sticky and crusty. Wouldn’t do to have the little prince wake up in such a condition, would it? Killer hardly thinks before scooping up the bowl and rag Dream had been using to start gently cleaning up the guardian.

Dream’s legs twitch in his slumber and more slurred noises leave his mouth. Killer wonders if he’s dreaming or if it’s just the stimulation. Without looking away from Dream’s face, Killer hikes up one of his legs, _gently_ , to kiss at the inside of his patella. Dream’s brows relax.

“heheh, wow.” Killer whispers into the bone.

When Dream is clean enough, Killer pulls the covers over the two of them and lets Dream’s warmth lull him into his own world of _dreams_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took far too long and it is because i was completely unsatisfied with the porn,,, but hey!!!! this fic isn't about the porn!!!! it's about dream falling asleep!!! and he did that!!!
> 
> (i tell myself as i post this chapter lol)

**Author's Note:**

> me: haven't we projected enough
> 
> my brain: i dont think so, howabout sleeby dream boy


End file.
